


A Somewhat Convenient Alien Invasion

by icandrawamoth



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Universe - Alien Invasion, Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Crack, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Curt and Owen decide to get frisky in the middle of the wrong mission. Aliens invade. This is what happens next.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Comment_fic prompt: "Any cop/spy/detective fandom, Any+Any, Unfriendly Alien Invasion."

“Barb,” Curt whispers urgently into the communicator, “can you hear me?”

There's a sharp burst of static, then her voice, high with worry. “Curt, thank god you're safe! Is Owen with you?”

“Right here, love,” his partner mutters over his shoulder.

“Where are you guys?” is Barb's next anxious question.

“Stuck in a shady warehouse in Munich in the middle of a most inconvenient alien invasion,” Curt deadpans.

“Somewhat convenient,” Owen points out. “They did take out our targets for us.”

“A somewhat convenient alien invasion,” Curt amends. He peers around the stack of crates the two of them are hidden behind at the scaly green behemoths still prowling the area. “We may need some help getting out of here.”

“I'll do what I can, agents. What's your situation?”

“A dozen green brutes, a floor covered with human bodies and exploded boxes,” Owen mutters, “and a rather disturbing lack of equipment on my part, I must say.”

“Lack of equipment?” Barb echoes.

Owen bemusedly looks down at himself, and Curt follows his gaze – he's not wearing much more than his underwear and socks. “May have misplaced it,” he admits vaguely, sharing a grin with his partner. “Tell me you gave Curt something helpful; you know he never remembers.”

“Are you wearing the jacket I gave you?” Barb asks. “It'll allow you to-”

“No go,” Curt informs her. “Too hot.”

“ _Curt_. When are you going to learn to actually keep the gadgets we have on you?”

Curt shrugs as Owen rolls his eyes fondly. “Maybe someday. What else?”

There's silence as Barb things for a moment. “The blue pen?”

Curt rifles through his pockets and comes up with one. “Yes?”

“You have that but not the jacket?”

“You never know when you'll have to write something. Can we discuss this another time?”

“We will,” Barb promises, a vague threat behind the words. “Obviously you weren't paying attention when I explained it to you, and you were lucky enough not to have tried to use it yet. Twist the middle part, click, and throw – knock-out gas. Be careful not to get yourselves.”

“I'd think we could figure that part out,” Curt says drying as he follows her instructions and tosses the pen across the room. The aliens turn at the noise, tilting their heads curiously at the object, then startling as the pen hisses and starts to emit a thick white fog. They don't have a chance of making it out of the room before the gas takes effect, and soon they're all unconscious on the floor.

“That was great – I could kiss you!” Curt exclaims.

“You always say that,” Barb says dreamily, but the agent doesn't seen to notice as he lead Owen through the mess, sleeves pressed to their mouths and noses to avoid the last of the gas, out toward their car. “What next?”

“Basically nothing is moving right now,” Barb explains, “so Cynthia says to head back to MI6 headquarters with Owen for the time being, and we'll try and get you home as soon as possible.”

“It's a plan. Thanks, Barb; I”ll be in touch.” He clicks off the communicator and looks over at Owen, who's strapping himself into the driver's seat.

“That was a nice save back there, old chap,” he says. “ _I_ could kiss _you_.”

“I wouldn't be opposed,” Curt responds casually, and Owen grins as he pulls him in by the collar to press their lips together.


End file.
